We are all deluged
With words each day
I truly find it hard I’ll say
To take it in
To store it all
I just don’t have
The wear with all
To read it all
To use the thoughts
What’s in e-mails
Fill books and books
My mind goes into
Overload
And I don’t find
Enough abode
To store it all
So I throw it out
Enough’s enough
I shout right out
Sometimes I dread
What’s up ahead
That’s there each day
That must be read
I’m sure each day
There will be more
Until I open up
Death’s door
By Ronald Gainsford
© 2000 Ronald Gainsford
BY RGAI
